by Betty Jane Wilson, society president
A decade plus, prior to his varied enterprises in Grasshopper Falls, A.G. Patrick, son of a printer, became a very young typesetter and left home at an early age to serve apprenticeship of his trade in Terre Haute, Ind.
He worked as a journeyman printer for numerous newspapers in Kentucky and Indiana. At one time was persuaded to publish a paper; however, lack of financial aid compelled him to relinquish the effort after five issues. Following a short stint in merchandising with his brother, he decided to go to California and joined a company organizing a wagon train.
His experiences and encounters prompted him to write his recollections, which he shared with F. C. Scott, publisher of the Valley Falls New Era, predecessor of the Valley Falls Vindicator.
An early episode he recalled occurred after leaving St. Joseph, Mo., for the gold fields.
“The first buffalo that we met was (sic) in the neighborhood of Ash Hollow on the North Platte, seven- or eight-hundred miles west of St. Joseph. It was a herd of a dozen or so and men on horseback were chasing them in every direction. The thought struck us that we (Note:Patrick is referring to himself in the style often used in those days) might get a shot at one, so we took our gun and walked ahead of the wagons and hid ourself in the tall grass near a pond of water. We did not have to wait long before the old bull buffalo was heading directly for us. The mere thought of his coming made us quite nervous, for we had often heard a wounded buffalo would attack and trample a man to death.
“By the time he was close enough to get a good view, we had a sudden attack of buck ague and with difficulty held on to our gun. His very looks was (sic) enough to frighten anyone, his eyes flashing like balls of fire, tongue protruding from his mouth and snorting for all that was out, his heavy tread making the earth fairly shake.
“What to do revolved quickly in our mind. We were afraid to shoot, as that might be the last of us, so we deliberately threw our gun into the tall grass; jumped into the pond and took a long dive coming up at least a hundred feet away spouting like a porpoise, and on looking around saw the buffalo heading in another direction.
“It took at least five minutes to find our gun, and the next day traded it to an Indian for a pony, not wanting any more buffalo in our sport.”
Jamie and Julie Durand will be hosts at the Valley Falls Historical Society from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, Aug. 29. Admission is free.
August 27, 2009
August 20, 2009
Enemies become 'loving' as doves
Tales from the trail by A.G. Patrick, New Era editor
(Compiled by Betty Jane Wilson, Valley Falls Historical Society President)
Prior to settling in Grasshopper Falls in 1856 and chalking up a vast amount of history for the town and Jefferson County, A.G. Patrick caught the gold fever and with nine others formed a company of wagons and oxen for a journey to the “Land of Promise” on the Pacific Coast. The company started from Green Castle, Indiana, on March 1, 1849, and reached “Hangtown,” (Placerville, Calif.) on September 3.
Decades later, Mr. Patrick shared recollections of his experiences with F.C. Scott, editor of the Valley Falls New Era (predecessor to the Vindicator).
Relating his many experiences, he recalled the incident of the Odd Fellows. In Patrick’s company was a man named Bob Hankins who belonged to the Fraternal Order of the Odd Fellows. In the same group was another Odd Fellow named Adamson. According to Patrick, “Between the two there was a constant quarrel, never agreeing on anything, and Bob had threatened a thousand times to kill Adamson.”
“To tell the truth, none of the company liked Adamson, and the fervent prayer of all was that Bob might muster up courage enough some day to commit the deed. . . One evening Bob and Adamson had a high old time and Bob came to us swearing vengeance, and that he was determined to kill Adamson the very next morning and wanted us to accompany him and see that the job was done. In agreeing to accompany Bob, it was with no murderous intent upon our part, but for the fun that might come out of it, knowing that when it came to a pinch he would flunk.”
Bob and Patrick, out early the next morning, found a secluded spot from which Bob could attack Adamson who rode his horse ahead of the wagons. Finally, he was seen half a mile off!
In Patrick’s words, “The closer Adamson got, the more Bob trembled. He had his pistol out, cocked and ready, and by the time Adamson got within twenty yards, somehow or other the thundering pistol went off, shooting Bob in the heel.
“He rolled and tumbled on the grass and made a terrible to-do. As Adamson rode up and dismounted, we looked for Bob to shoot, but instead he piteously cried, ‘Oh, Brother Adamson, I have shot myself! What in the world am I to do?’
‘Keep a good cheer, my brother’ said Adamson. ‘You can ride my horse and I will walk.’
“Bob bawled like a calf and with tears running down his cheeks, exclaimed ‘Oh, Brother Adamson, you are so good and kind to me. I don’t see how I will ever be able to repay you!
“While this was all going on, there we stood, a silent listener and spectator, we actually mean and dejected, fully determined never to be again inveigled to accompany one Odd Fellow to kill another. From that time on, the two Odd Fellows were loving as a pair of doves. That little episode fully convinced us ‘never give advice or act as mediator . . . !” A.G. Patrick
Galen Reichart, Glenn Lester, and Engelbert Heuertz will be museum hosts from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, Aug. 22.
(Compiled by Betty Jane Wilson, Valley Falls Historical Society President)
Prior to settling in Grasshopper Falls in 1856 and chalking up a vast amount of history for the town and Jefferson County, A.G. Patrick caught the gold fever and with nine others formed a company of wagons and oxen for a journey to the “Land of Promise” on the Pacific Coast. The company started from Green Castle, Indiana, on March 1, 1849, and reached “Hangtown,” (Placerville, Calif.) on September 3.
Decades later, Mr. Patrick shared recollections of his experiences with F.C. Scott, editor of the Valley Falls New Era (predecessor to the Vindicator).
Relating his many experiences, he recalled the incident of the Odd Fellows. In Patrick’s company was a man named Bob Hankins who belonged to the Fraternal Order of the Odd Fellows. In the same group was another Odd Fellow named Adamson. According to Patrick, “Between the two there was a constant quarrel, never agreeing on anything, and Bob had threatened a thousand times to kill Adamson.”
“To tell the truth, none of the company liked Adamson, and the fervent prayer of all was that Bob might muster up courage enough some day to commit the deed. . . One evening Bob and Adamson had a high old time and Bob came to us swearing vengeance, and that he was determined to kill Adamson the very next morning and wanted us to accompany him and see that the job was done. In agreeing to accompany Bob, it was with no murderous intent upon our part, but for the fun that might come out of it, knowing that when it came to a pinch he would flunk.”
Bob and Patrick, out early the next morning, found a secluded spot from which Bob could attack Adamson who rode his horse ahead of the wagons. Finally, he was seen half a mile off!
In Patrick’s words, “The closer Adamson got, the more Bob trembled. He had his pistol out, cocked and ready, and by the time Adamson got within twenty yards, somehow or other the thundering pistol went off, shooting Bob in the heel.
“He rolled and tumbled on the grass and made a terrible to-do. As Adamson rode up and dismounted, we looked for Bob to shoot, but instead he piteously cried, ‘Oh, Brother Adamson, I have shot myself! What in the world am I to do?’
‘Keep a good cheer, my brother’ said Adamson. ‘You can ride my horse and I will walk.’
“Bob bawled like a calf and with tears running down his cheeks, exclaimed ‘Oh, Brother Adamson, you are so good and kind to me. I don’t see how I will ever be able to repay you!
“While this was all going on, there we stood, a silent listener and spectator, we actually mean and dejected, fully determined never to be again inveigled to accompany one Odd Fellow to kill another. From that time on, the two Odd Fellows were loving as a pair of doves. That little episode fully convinced us ‘never give advice or act as mediator . . . !” A.G. Patrick
Galen Reichart, Glenn Lester, and Engelbert Heuertz will be museum hosts from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday, Aug. 22.
August 13, 2009
A.G. Patrick recalls Harry Hoover
compiled by Betty Jane Wilson, society president
A.G. Patrick was an 1856 Grasshopper Falls (Valley Falls) settler, avid abolitionist, adventurer, later postmaster, mayor, short-time editor of The Valley Falls New Era and one-time prisoner of pro-slavery sympathizers at Lecompton. He recalled events of his personal history with short sketches of well-known characters he encountered.
Of one Patrick wrote “Harry Hoover, in 1855-56 lived on the Delaware River about half way between Ozawkie and Valley Falls. He was arrested by U.S. troops and put with Hickory Point prisoners at Lecompton.
“He was a tall, uncouth looking specimen. He wore an old white fur, bell crowned hat, making him look at least seven feet tall, and in appearance not altogether unlike “Uncle Sam” as portrayed by pictures in papers nowadays.
“Hoover’s hair was long and unkempt, and the luxurious growth of it on his face hid everything but a low forehead, eyes and nose. His pants were altogether too short, and his feet no socks, but he wore an old pair of moccasins made out of green cowhide.
“After prison, he was a frequent visitor to the town (Valley Falls), always making his appearance barefooted. His droll and comical looks attracted the attention of the boys and they would follow him from place to place as vehement and noisy as a pack of hounds in a fox chase.
“Hoover was a regular glutton, the boys often chipping in and buying sugar and they liked to see how much the fellow would eat. He crammed down five pounds easily at a sitting. He had a good digestive apparatus, and a stomach like an ostrich, and to test the matter further, the boys gave up sugar, candies and the like, and tried him on eggs. Five dozen raw was an easy matter without any show of an overdose. Hard boiled ones were the next test, two dozen to begin with, and then another dozen added, and to cap the climax, on a wager, he crammed down another dozen, shells and all! A man with such a capacious and unbounded stomach, to fill him up was like pouring water down a rat hole.”
Source: Valley Falls News Era, Jan. 25, 1902
A.G. Patrick was an 1856 Grasshopper Falls (Valley Falls) settler, avid abolitionist, adventurer, later postmaster, mayor, short-time editor of The Valley Falls New Era and one-time prisoner of pro-slavery sympathizers at Lecompton. He recalled events of his personal history with short sketches of well-known characters he encountered.
Of one Patrick wrote “Harry Hoover, in 1855-56 lived on the Delaware River about half way between Ozawkie and Valley Falls. He was arrested by U.S. troops and put with Hickory Point prisoners at Lecompton.
“He was a tall, uncouth looking specimen. He wore an old white fur, bell crowned hat, making him look at least seven feet tall, and in appearance not altogether unlike “Uncle Sam” as portrayed by pictures in papers nowadays.
“Hoover’s hair was long and unkempt, and the luxurious growth of it on his face hid everything but a low forehead, eyes and nose. His pants were altogether too short, and his feet no socks, but he wore an old pair of moccasins made out of green cowhide.
“After prison, he was a frequent visitor to the town (Valley Falls), always making his appearance barefooted. His droll and comical looks attracted the attention of the boys and they would follow him from place to place as vehement and noisy as a pack of hounds in a fox chase.
“Hoover was a regular glutton, the boys often chipping in and buying sugar and they liked to see how much the fellow would eat. He crammed down five pounds easily at a sitting. He had a good digestive apparatus, and a stomach like an ostrich, and to test the matter further, the boys gave up sugar, candies and the like, and tried him on eggs. Five dozen raw was an easy matter without any show of an overdose. Hard boiled ones were the next test, two dozen to begin with, and then another dozen added, and to cap the climax, on a wager, he crammed down another dozen, shells and all! A man with such a capacious and unbounded stomach, to fill him up was like pouring water down a rat hole.”
Source: Valley Falls News Era, Jan. 25, 1902
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